To Whom It May Concern
by clairevergreen
Summary: Ivy Westover has always dreamed of becoming a world famous magizoologist since her first day of Hogwarts. Fast forward a few years, and she finds herself in a dead end desk job with no hopes until her former best friends, famed wizarding naturalist Molly Weasley and bestselling author Harriet Dursley, come crashing back into her life in a way that she could have never expected.
1. To Whom The Task Falls

Having grown up as a Muggle for the first ten years of her life, Ivy Westover appreciated many things about wizarding culture. With a flick of her wrist, she could fold her clothes or cook a meal or even find the car keys she lost under the cushion. Almost everything was faster, more streamlined, and she had yet to find a problem that magic couldn't solve. Except one.

"If one more owl shits on my desk," Wesley Underhill said from the cubicle behind Ivy. She smiled as he shooed the owl away. "I swear to Merlin, every other department gets those memos and we're stuck with the fucking owls."

"Well, we are the Beasts Division," Ivy said as she finished signing off on some Hippogriff sighting in Northern Ireland. "They probably thought it was fitting." She glanced over at him as he set the paper in her 'Out' box and it disappeared with a pop. "What's it say?"

Wesley rolled his chair back to her and handed her the memo. "Stupid owl gave it to the wrong desk," he said, bumping his chair against the edge of her desk. "Guess she's back again, so Dursley will probably be bursting down those doors with some new-"

"Wes, shut up," Ivy said as she read through the memo. "And it's Harriet. She's in here enough, I think we're on first name basis at this point." Wes shrugged and rolled back to his cubicle while Ivy continued to read the memo:

 _To Whom It May Concern:_

 _Molly Weasley II, MZ, will be returning from her expedition into southern Sudan and, will require a return interview and declaration of restricted items/beasts/beings, etc. Her intake interview will occur on Thursday, April 11th, 2041 at approximately 3:30pm. Any and all personnel that are required must attend._

 _Jonah McAllister, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

"You know, I still don't know why McAllister doesn't do those intake interviews," Wes said as Ivy shoved the memo into a tray at the corner of her desk. It was filled with almost identical ones, the only thing different between them the country and the time. Wes rolled back over to Ivy, a beanbag ball decorated like a snitch in his hands. "Shouldn't that be his job instead of shuffling it off to some paperwork monkey-"

"Do you know how to shut up?" Ivy said, grabbing the ball out of the air as he tossed it. "I was friends with her at school. It makes it easier if I do it because she will actually tell me what she found over there."

Wes raised his eyebrow and grabbed the ball back. "Oh yeah, you guys were just the best of friends," he teased, rolling out of her reach. "No other feelings involved, nope. Just pure, unadulterated, 100% platonic friendship."

Ivy glared at Wes as he rolled back to his desk. "Will you ever let that go?" she asked, starting to throw what she needed for the interview in her bag. "I told you that in confidence. I picked you over all my other friends to reveal that I had a crush on the famous Molly Weasley at school."

"I'm your only friend," Wes said as she stood up. "And from what I understood, the past tense thing might be a little premature." Ivy glared at him and picked up one of the memos to toss at him. He ducked and grinned. "I'm just saying, you do have a picture of her on you desk."

Ivy opened and closed her mouth a few times before saying, "That is-it's not...It's attached to the article where they quoted me, Wesley. I was on the front page of the Prophet!"

Wes nodded with the shit-eating grin still on his face. "Mhm, whatever you say." He nodded to the clock as Ivy started to protest. "Don't want to be late, now."

Ivy glared at Wes again as she started to walk out of the office. "I hate you so much."

The room that the department conducted their intake interviews in was more than a little intimidating, to say the least. Some former Head had decided that instead of the usual generic art or enchanted windows that decorated the walls of most offices, they would put up portraits of famed magizoologists, both past and present. It was one thing to have Lord Stoddard Withers, a long dead specialist of winged horses, staring down disapprovingly, but it was quite another to have someone like Rolf Scammander or Luna Lovegood, that Ivy had once met at some convention, watching throughout the entire process.

Ivy glanced around at the portraits as she set out the notepad and specimen boxes. A new one had been added since the last time she had been in there a few months ago and despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop her gaze from coming back to the picture of Molly that sat between the two Scammanders' pictures. Ivy kept messing with the stack of parchment to try and distract herself from glancing up at it. She was saved as the door opened, drawing her attention away from the portraits. Her relief was short-lived as the person whose picture she was failing at not staring at walked in.

Not much about Molly Weasley had changed since their days at school. She still had the same shoulder-length brown hair, though it was thrown up in a messy bun or ponytail more often than before. Her skin was still darker from all the time she spent out in the sun and there were several more scars up and down her arms than there had been before, most of which had come from the time she had spent in Romania with her uncle. There was something in her eyes as she set her case down on the desk as she started to talk.

"Ivy, you will never believe what I saw this time," she said, unlocking the case. "It was incredible. I was so close to her and she was absolutely beautiful."

Ivy nodded, no words coming to mind as Molly rambled on. It was only after Molly had finished placing notes and samples on the the table that she was able to get a coherent thought out. "What did you see, exactly?" she asked, grabbing one of the two vials filled with what looked like yellow and black spotted fur.

Ivy looked up when Molly didn't say aything right away. She leaned against the edge of the table and Ivy recognized the almost manic look in Molly's eye. "Ivy, I saw a Nundu," she said. "Up close and personal."

Ivy froze with the vial halfway in the specimen box. "You saw a what?" she asked, staring at the fur in the vial. "This is from a Nundu? You pulled hair from a Nundu?" She quickly set the sample down and started scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"Well, no, the hair was caught in a tree," Molly said, starting to walk around the room. "And I found the nails on a the ground. But I saw them, Ivy. And they were stunning."

"Them?" Ivy asked as she put the nail fragments in another box. "You were that close to more than one of them?"

Molly seemed to hesitate, staring up at the portrait of Newt Scammander. "Well, I mean, close is a relative term," she said, tugging at the rings on her fingers.

"Molly," Ivy said, pulling some of Molly's notes over to read.

"It was a mother and her cub," she relented. "I respected the Ministry's stupid distance rule, don't worry. I tracked them as they moved and never got close enough for them to notice me. It's all in those notes."

Ivy gave her an distrustful look as she flipped through the notes, copying them each over with her wand. "Molly, you better not be lying to me," she said, scanning the sketches that Molly had drawn up. "They let me do your interviews as a favor. If they knew I let something slide-"

"Come on, you think I'd let you get in trouble?" Molly said, finally sitting down in one of the chairs and sliding over to Ivy's side.

Ivy paused for a second, staring at Molly before shaking her head. "Not intentionally, no," she said, focusing on the sketches. "And you said you kept the appropriate distance as per the Ministry's guidelines for interaction with a Class Five Dangerous Beast?"

Molly rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Please, look who you're talking to," she said, a grin on her face. "I'm Molly Weasley, the most famous and accomplished magizoologist since Newt Scammander himself, according to the Daily Prophet."

"Your best friend writes the articles about you, don't act like there isn't some bias there" Ivy said, refusing to look up at Molly. "Anyway, I know that you are aware of the regulations, but that doesn't mean you follow them." She held up the sketches and finally looked Molly in the eye. "You drew these sketches from the minimum safe distance?"

Molly nodded, looking down at her hands. Ivy put the sketches down and pushed them over towards Molly. "See, this one, when the neck is puffed up seems like it was drawn from far away. It's not too specific and it's just an outline. But this one-" she pointed to one of the Nundu laying down that was filled with detailed descriptions "-is full of details that you would have to be particularly close to the creature to see, right?"

Molly pushed the sketches away and stood up, starting to walk around the room again. "Would you believe me if I said I had good binoculars?" she asked, turning around with a sheepish look on her face.

"Molly-"

"Look, I was careful," Molly interrupted. "I promise. But, Ivy, come on, it was two Nundu. I couldn't have just let them pass me by without doing anything. You would have done the exact same thing, right? I mean, I think I really want to study these guys, you know? No one's really done it-"

"Mol, you say that every time you come back from somewhere," Ivy said, finishing collecting all of Molly's information and putting it together in a container. She waved her wand and shrunk the container down before tapping it. It disappeared with a pop and Ivy turned to face Molly. "Just...don't do it again, okay? McAllister isn't going to check it all too closely."

Molly smiled and sat back into the chair, scooting closer to Ivy. "See, I told you you'd have done the same thing," she said, pulling out her wand and waving it. All of her samples and everything started to pack themselves away in her case. "Ivy, it was like when we saw the Hippogriffs for the first time, back in sixth year. It was incredible, amazing, like nothing I'd ever seen before."

Ivy tried to tune Molly's ramblings out, even though she was dying to know more about Molly's expedition. Each and every time Molly came back, it was like a blow to Ivy's ego. The two of them had always talked about going on amazing adventures together to country after country, discovering new species and becoming the world's most famed magizoologists. But unfortunately for Ivy, her last name was not Weasley and she didn't have the chance or the funds to travel the world without any other income. Her mother needed her to stay at home to help with her father and her siblings, so she was stuck at home working a Ministry desk job while Molly was able to do what they had always planned.

"I'm telling you, you have to come and see it at least one time," Molly continued, snapping Ivy out of her thoughts. "It's a million times better than anything we ever saw in class."

"That's great, Mol," Ivy said, standing up and shoving her things in her bag, "but I can't keep covering for you. Can you just pretend to follow the rules for once? For me?"

Molly sighed and rolled back until she hit the wall. "But where's the fun in that?" she asked, spinning around as she smiled. She held her hands up as Ivy looked like she was about to say something. "Okay, okay, I guess I can make one exception. Only 'cause you asked so very nicely."

A knock on the door cut into the conversation and Molly rolled all the way around the table to open it. Ivy pulled her bag up onto her shoulder as Harriet Dursley walked in. Her black hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her clothes were rumpled, like she had just climbed out of bed. She stopped once she got in the door, seeming to register that Ivy was standing a few feet away.

"Oh, Ivy, hi," she said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She quickly put her hand back onto the stacks of papers in her arms as she tried to juggle them so they didn't fall. "I can come back, if you guys aren't done yet, I didn't mean to barge in."

"We're done, Haz, don't worry about it," Molly said as she stood up from behind the door. She grabbed the papers out of Harriet's hands and set them down on the table. Harriet set her bag down on the table as well, throwing a glance at Ivy.

Ivy made her way to the door, grabbing the handle as she stopped. "It's fine, Harriet, I got everything I needed," she said with a small smile. She turned back to Molly as she gathered up the rest of her stuff. "I'll let you know if there's anything that doesn't check out, but you should be fine _this_ time."

She gave Molly a pointed look that she blatantly ignored. Ivy rolled her eyes and started to close the door behind her. "I'll see you around, Harriet," she said, ignoring Molly's protests that she never actually broke the rules, just bent them a little. "You guys should be able to use this for a little while if you need it."

"Thanks, Ivy," Harriet called as the door started to swing shut.

"Enjoy those notes!" Molly called as the door snapped shut with a click.

Ivy stood staring at it for a minute before walking back down the corridor to her office, ducking as more owls flew back and forth to various offices. She yanked open the door to the Beasts Division and moved down the rows until she reached her cubicle.

"So how was it?" Wes asked as she sat down. "Was the great, wonderful, amazing magizoologist Molly Weasley as perfectly awesome as ever?"

"You're awful, is what you are," Ivy said as she sat down.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Wes said, ducking as Ivy threw another memo at his head. He laughed and turned back to his desk as one of their coworkers shushed them. Ivy turned back to her work, groaning as she saw the pile of paperwork that had accumulated in her in box. She slowly unpacked her bag and shoved everything back into the general place it was supposed to go.

Stuffing her bag back underneath her desk, she glanced around before pulling out folded pieces of parchment from her pocket. She unfolded them and spread them out on her desk, staring down at the sketches and notes Molly had taken. Leaning against her hand, she traced her fingers over each drawing. The sound of someone snapping a drawer shut shook her out of her trance and she stacked all the notes up together. Looking around again, she tapped her bottom right drawer with her wand and pulled it open.

She placed the notes on top of an already extensive stack of field notes, some more worn than others. Along with the notes, the drawer was full of field journals and specimen jars and signed copies of every book Molly and Harriet had published. She stared down at the cover of the first book she had gotten, the jacket worn from all the times she had paged through it. Sighing, she snapped the drawer shut and sealed it with her wand before reaching over to grab the first sheet on her pile of paperwork.


	2. To Whom The Question Is Asked

AS a cat owner, Ivy was used to her fair share of odd habits from her cat Mushu. More than once she had come home to find him sitting in one of the top cabinets in her kitchen taking a nap and though she couldn't quite prove it, she was convinced that he was responsible for the disappearance of all her left socks. On that particular morning, however, Mushu reached a new level when Ivy was woken up with her nose and mouth clogged with fur.

She shot up and shoved him off her face, gasping for air. "Jesus Christ, cat," she said as he seemed to glare at her before curling up at the foot of her bed. She wiped off the fur stuck to her tongue, standing up and scratching Mushu on the head. "You're lucky you're cute." She grabbed a pair of shorts off the floor near her dresser and grabbed her wand, sticking it behind her ear as she walked over to her kitchen.

The flat was nothing fancy—a bedroom with an attached bathroom and a combination kitchen and living area. Pictures hung sporadically across the pale yellow walls. One of the walls in the living room was covered floor to ceiling in corkboard, clippings of newspapers and pictures tacked up everywhere. Each one focused on a different magizoologist and their accomplishments from the Scammanders to Abernathy Smalls—the witch who studied the migration patterns of the Antipodean Opaleye dragon—to Molly, who took up a good majority of the top right corner.

Ivy yawned as she walked into the small kitchen, ruffling the back of her hair. Old copies of the Prophet from the last week littered the small island in the middle of the kitchen with a few other magazines buried underneath. She walked over to the sink and opened up the window before digging around for a clean mug. Almost on autopilot, she filled it with water and turned around to set it on the counter of the island as she pulled her wand out from behind her ear. A quick wave and steam started rising off the water as Ivy dug through her cabinets for a tea bag.

Finally locating one, she placed it in her mug and looked over the papers and magazines in front of her. Understandably, most of the headlines from the beginning of the week detailed Molly's amazing new adventures and what she found there with Harriet's name on the by-line as per usual. As the papers continued through the week, the articles about Molly grew shorter and smaller, slowly making their way off the front page and towards the more gossipy sections of The Prophet. Ivy frowned as she read some of the headlines, none of which mentioned anything remotely related to her career.

 _"Molly Weasley—Forever Alone?"_

 _"Spinster Weasley Brushes Off Another Suitor" (Seriously,_ Ivy thought as she tossed the paper away _, who even talks like that anymore?)_

 _"Famed Wizarding Naturalist To Find Eligible Partner?"_

Ivy shoved all the papers to the side, a few of them falling on the floor with a faint thud. She was about to reach for one of the Witch Weekly magazines laying out when an owl landed just beside her hand. It dropped the newest copy of Witch Weekly in front of her before sticking out it's leg for payment. Ivy, picking up her tea as the owl inched closer to it, opened up a drawer and rummaged around until she found four knuts. As soon as she placed them in the pouch, the owl flew back through the open window.

Ivy flipped through the magazine absentmindedly as she sipped on her tea. The only reason she even subscribed to it anymore was the knowledge that her old roommate Drew Kline, who was one of the feature writers, would probably personally track her down and hold her hostage until she did. Most of it was fluff and gossip pieces, like which potion gave you the bounciest curl or which Quidditch star was the most drool worthy (spoiler alert—it was a tie between Jinan Karimi and Jacques Darby). In the last few years, it had developed more of a following for their investigative journalism division headed by Dominique Weasley and Jonah Trevena, but the magazine had yet to truly shake off its former reputation.

Ivy skimmed over a piece on the current magical involvement in the Muggle crisis in Syria, her mind more focused on the mountains of paper work. She was just about to toss the magazine aside when she turned to the next page. A picture of Molly looking over her shoulder before slipping into an unmarked building dominated the top third of the page. After reading the by-line, Ivy couldn't help but roll her eyes. Amanita Skeeter was every bit as awful as her grandmother and despite her better judgment, Ivy continued to read the article:

 ** _Golden Girl Weasley Slipping Back Into Not-So Golden Habits?_**

 _Molly Weasley, noted wizarding naturalist, has been spotted near her old stomping grounds earlier this week. Weasley, who has recently returned from an expedition in South Sudan, was seen slipping into the Dusky Basilisk shortly after sources placed her withdrawing a considerable sum from her Gringotts account._

 _The Dusky Basilisk, known for its underground gambling ring, caters to a large variety of unseemly characters, of which Weasley seems to have joined. Three years ago, the magizoologist was seen leaving the establishment with Crystal Shrike, who was a suspect in the Ministry raid that occurred just weeks after Weasley's visit. Multiple other sources have confirmed that Weasley is a frequent flier at the Basilisk's more questionable business ventures, including the owner himself, Kevin Gallagher, who refused to be interviewed for this story._

 _Weasley was unavailable for comment, but her agent and close personal friend, best-selling author Harriet Dursley, was able to answer a few questions._

 _"What Molly does in her free time is none of the press's concern," Dursley said. "Her visits to the Dusky Basilisk are ones of a purely professional nature."_

 _Could there possibly be more to this golden girl than meets the eye? Could this be the reason she has yet to be seen with a significant other of any sort? While—_

Ivy slammed the magazine shut and sent it flying across the counter where it pushed a few copies of the Prophet onto the floor. She stared at her counter and gripped her mug tighter as she tried to process what she had just read. Though Amanita had danced around the subject, anyone who had touched a paper or magazine in the last three years knew about the Dusky Basilisk scandal.

Kevin Gallagher, the owner, claimed that he knew nothing about the illegal…escort business that had been run out of his back rooms, but there was no way that Crystal Shrike had been able to organize the entire thing on her own. It had been the biggest news story since the Rowle Charity Fund had been (allegedly) scammed and all the papers had run with it. Numerous big name celebrities had been caught in the cross hairs of the investigation, from Quidditch stars to actors, even a few high ranking ministry officials. Molly had been dragged into it when her name had been found on a ledger hidden in the back rooms and the picture of her and Crystal had appeared in Witch Weekly soon after (thanks again to Amanita). Even though she hadn't yet become famous for her work, the name Weasley still carried weight. It had all blown over when Molly immediately left for Romania, but the accusation had a tendency to pop up at inconvenient times.

Ivy stared down at her mug, stirring around the tea with her finger. Struck with a sudden urge, she turned around and tossed it in the sink. The Dusty Basilisk wasn't something she made a habit of dwelling on, especially since the scandal had been the reason she and Molly had drifted apart. At Hogwarts, they had shared everything with each other, but when Molly had returned from Romania, there was a distance between them that Ivy couldn't figure out how to bridge.

Glancing at the clock, Ivy saw that she had spent more time than she had thought reading the papers and she was going to have to hurry if she didn't want to be late. She grabbed her wand off the counter and waved it, the mug she had been using beginning to clean itself. She stuck her wand behind her ear and started to walk back to her room. She paused, staring down at the magazine on the counter, and in one quick movement, lit the copy on fire and tossed it in the sink.

* * *

THE moment Ivy walked into the office, she was greeted by a memo hitting her in the head. It bounced off her forehead and she juggled it in her hands before catching it. She glared over at Wes who was making no effort to hide that he had thrown it.

"You would think these bloody owls would have figured out that they want Westover and not Wesley," he said as he peeled apart an orange. "I mean, it's a last name versus a first name, even an owl should be able to get that right." He ducked half-heartedly as she tossed the memo back at him before sitting down. "Oh, come on, it could be important."

"Not in the mood, Wes," Ivy mumbled as she shoved her bag under her desk and reached for the stack of paperwork that had once again piled up. Due to Mushu's insistence that he must eat a stray sock that had been lying under her bed and the resulting twenty minute chase, she knew she was late. Some of their coworkers gave her sidelong glances as she had walked past them, but they had kept their mouths shut. They may not have known each other well, but none of them were willing to draw their boss's attention for any reason.

"Geez, what's got your panties in a bunch?" Wes asked as he popped a piece of the orange in his mouth. Ivy was about to answer when the door to the office opened once more. Everyone stopped what they were doing and slowly turned to the door. Since Ivy had been the last one to arrive, they all knew who was standing there.

"Westover!" Jonah McAllister, the head of their division, called.

Ivy winced and rolled back in her chair so she could see him properly. "Yes, sir?" she said, mentally cursing herself for ever adopting Mushu in the first place.

"I need to speak with you," he said, turning and leaving before she could say anything in response.

Reluctantly, she stood up and slowly started making her way down the row of cubicles to McAllister's office. She glanced over at Wes, but he was no help. As soon as the doors had opened, he had spun around in his chair, hunching over in an effort to not be noticed, and she knew from experience that there was no way he was going to resurface anytime soon. A few of her other coworkers gave her sympathetic glances, but most of them pointedly ignored her. Ivy pushed open the door and immediately hung a right so she was standing in front of her boss's office. She took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

Almost as soon as she entered, she started talking. "Sir, I know that I was late, but I—"

"Sit down, Westover," McAllister said with his back turned towards her, making no effort to show that he had heard her.

Ivy snapped her mouth shut and hurried to one of two chairs that sat in front of the desk. She sat down and immediately scooted closer to the front of the chair so her feet touched the ground. Her back was tense and straight, but with nothing to lean against, she just folded her hands in her lap and tried to ignore it. McAllister continued to ignore her and Ivy squirmed in her seat until he finally turned around.

At one point, Jonah McAllister had supposedly been one of the most respected Hit Wizards in the Ministry, but that time had long since passed. His thinning hair with its receding hairline was peppered with gray hairs and he was much rounder than the pictures that he displayed on his bookshelf. While he was not the most incompetent head they could have had, he came remarkably close with his lack of concern over anything his department did and his seeming inability to perform even the simplest of tasks, preferring to delegate them out.

Ivy ran through numerous of excuses of her tardiness in her head as she waited for him to turn around. After a minute, she briefly considered that he had forgotten she was there until he turned around with a stack of what looked like paper in his hands. He sat down in his chair with a thumb, the force causing the chair to slide closer to his desk and he had to push himself backwards again.

Ivy picked at her fingernails as he got himself comfortable. As soon as his chair stopped, she blurted out, "Sir, I—"

"You signed off on Weasley's field notes, correct?" McAllister asked, putting the paper down in front of him.

Ivy paused, trying to process the new topic. "I, uh—Yes, I did," she said, stumbling through them.

McAllister nodded and, still not looking at her, opened his desk drawer. "Dursley sent over one of the drafts of the book they're writing and it doesn't seem to add up with the notes that you gave me," he said, putting said notes beside what she now could place as a copy of Harriet's book. "You sure that it all worked out fine? No safety protocols broken?"

Ivy shook her head, still trying to get her bearings in the conversation. "Uh, no. No, sir, everything seemed in order when I looked at it." She bit her lip, hoping that she didn't look as awkward and unsure as she sounded. _Not that he would notice._

McAllister nodded and pushed the manuscript over to her. "I called Dursley in anyways, just to be safe. I need you to talk with, just make sure everything adds up."

Ivy leaned back in her chair, brushing a stray piece of hair out her face. _At least he's not firing you for being late_ , she thought. _Just passing off his work. Again._ "Yeah, of course, no problem," she said, the words sounding forced even to herself. After a pause, she added on, "Sir."

McAllister nodded and turned around in his chair after putting the notes on top of the manuscript. "I'll send a memo when she gets here," he said and it was clear from his tone that the conversation was over.

Ivy stood up and grabbed the manuscript and notes. She paused, trying to see if McAllister was going to say anything else before walking out of his office. "Yeah, sure, I don't mind doing your job for you, no problem, Mr. McAllister, sir," she mumbled under her breath as she shoved open to the door the office.

Once again, she was the object of everyone's attention as she walked towards her cubicle. " _To Whom It May Concern,_ " Wes read as Ivy reached her desk, the manuscript in her hand. He rolled over to her desk and continued, " _Molly Weasley II, MZ, and Harriet Dursley have arrived and all personnel who are required_ —The man was literally just speaking to you, I don't understand how this works."

Ivy didn't say anything, just rearranged the the script in her hand so she could grab the memo. She went to turn around, but Wes maneuvered his chair into her way. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his usual cocky persona dropping away.

"Yeah, just…weird morning," Ivy said, bumping his chair with her hip. "Promise." Wes gave her an unconvinced look, but rolled out of her way. She gave him a small smile before heading out of the office once more.

Somehow, the rows of portraits were even creepier and more judgmental than the last time she was in there. She set the book on the table and tried to avoid looking at anyone. She sat down and turned the chair towards the door. She barely had to wait two minutes when the door flew open and someone came flying into the room. Ivy jumped and backed away from the book as she tried to figure out who the person was. "Hey, Molly," she said once she recognized who it was, "where's—"

"I need to ask you something," Molly said, cutting Ivy off.

Ivy stopped what she was saying and nodded, taking in Molly's slightly panicked and disheveled appearance. Not that it was unusual for Molly to be dressed more casually than most people, but her hair and clothes looked like she hadn't bothered to change them when she woke up in the morning (if she had even bothered to go to sleep). "Yeah, what's wrong?" Ivy asked, pushing the book farther down the table.

Molly glanced at the door, like she was worried someone was going to bust it down. Ivy was about to ask again when Molly turned back towards her and blurted out. "Will you be my girlfriend?"


End file.
